


Unchained Melody

by MaddieGaines



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angela Basset, Angela Basset as Michelle, F/M, Ghost-inspired fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 17:32:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18579247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieGaines/pseuds/MaddieGaines
Summary: A slight recreation of the iconic pottery scene from "Ghost".





	Unchained Melody

__

 

_Oh, my love, my darling_  
_I’ve hungered for your touch_ _  
_ _A long, lonely time_

Michelle awoke to the sounds of _Unchained Melody_ coming from downstairs of the Los Angeles apartment. Releasing a yawn, she got out of bed and walked out of the room, carefully leaning on the balcony that overlooked the living area. From there, she spotted Martin, adorned only in a pair of navy blue sweatpants, sitting at his pottery wheel while he carefully crafted what looked to be a vase.

Michelle made her way down the steps and made her presence known. “Martin?” She yawned again and groggily wiped the sleep out of her eyes. “What time is it?”

“2 am,” he answered, keeping his eyes focused on the project in front of him.

“Are you alright?” She asked, knowing that Martin only crafts pottery to relax when his mind is troubled.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Michelle nodded even though he couldn’t see it with his back towards her. It wasn’t long before her fingers combed through his grey-and-silver hair while she watched his hands at work, gently molding the clay with his fingers.

Martin closed his eyes contentedly for a few seconds, enjoying the feeling of her manicured nails grazing his scalp. With one hand still on the clay, he wrapped an arm around her waist, getting some of it on her [ivory, satin cami and short pajama set](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fslimages.macysassets.com%2Fis%2Fimage%2FMCY%2Fproducts%2F1%2Foptimized%2F10818621_fpx.tif%3Fop_sharpen%3D1%26wid%3D1230%26hei%3D1500%26fit%3Dfit%2C1%26%2524filterxlrg%2524&t=ZDI1NzY4OGRmZTVlZDhjN2E5MWYxYWVmNDA5OTQzMzg3YzE2YTk3NSxkZ1JYTjVVcg%3D%3D&b=t%3AR3UTi6xOQbCj4yDX70t0iw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmaddiestundentwritergaines.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184396151983%2Funchained-melody&m=1)—not that she minded.

When he slowly guided her to sit in the gap between his legs, Michelle made herself as comfortable as she could in the small space before letting her hands stroke his pale and slightly hairy arms. Curiosity overtook her, and she reached a dry finger out to touch the vase. Unfortunately, it recoiled at her touch, leaving Martin unable to finish it.

“Oh no,” she said with a small gasp and hot cheeks of embarrassment. “I hope it wasn’t a masterpiece.”

“It’s not now,” Martin joked with that adorable smile she loved so much. He set the failed project to the side and decided to start again with the clay he could salvage.

“Can I help?”

“Yeah.” He dipped his hands in the bowl of water on the side. “Here, get your fingers wet.”

Michelle puts her fingers in the water like he instructed and touched the clay.

“There. Now, let the clay slide between your fingers.”

Their hands and fingers moved in harmony, his thumbs stroking hers while she got used to the clay on her fingers. While doing this, Martin’s lips found her shoulder and he placed a small peck there before trailing kisses to that particular spot behind her ear that would tingle when it’s touched.

Michelle tried to ignore him and focus on coning the clay like she’s seen him do before, but he kissed that spot again, and she released a small giggle.

Martin gently removed her hands away from the clay and captured her lips with his, their messy fingers intertwining. He released her hands and moved down to her waist to pull her in his lap while his tongue licked her lips, asking for entrance.

Michelle’s tongue swirled around his, cupping his cheek as she turned in his arms, and allowed her feet to dangle on one side of his lap. When Martin scooped her up bridal style, forgetting about the clay and wheel, she wrapped her arms around his neck before he carried her to the kitchen and set her on the counter.

Martin pulled away from the kiss and grabbed the hand soap off the sink, so they could wash the clay off their hands.

After a few minutes, Michelle was drying her hands when Martin posed a question to her.

“What are we doing, Michelle?”

She looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“This thing between you and I.” He gestured between them.

She finished drying her hands and tossed the paper towel in the trash, turning her back towards him so she couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Is this about England?”

“It’s a beautiful place. I’d love for you to see it.”

Martin finished filming in Los Angeles, and he was set to go back to London for the next season of Sherlock. Whenever he talked about London, he would subtly drop hints that he would like for her to go with him. Art galleries she should visit, the best places to get chocolate croissants and biscottis, and beach spots she would enjoy—or maybe he was using that as an excuse to see her in a bikini.

Michelle didn’t know why she wouldn’t accept his invitation. She could do her job remotely, she never had children, and both of her parents have passed on, so it wasn’t like she needed to be there in case of an emergency.

Los Angeles was her home, however. She grew up there, went to school there, and met Owen—the man that she had planned on having a family and growing old with.

_Owen Bailey_.

Michelle smiled at the thought of him.

Over twenty years and she could still vividly remember the day they met at UCLA. Michelle was on her way to physics when she bumped into Owen, and their textbooks scattered onto the concrete ground. Apologies and awkward smiles were exchanged before they both headed to their respective classes.

Michelle saw him again the next morning at the local cafe while she got her usual breakfast of coffee and chocolate croissants. Owen didn’t like coffee, so he always ordered a cup of iced tea and a few biscottis. Breakfast meetings and talking until they’re almost late for their morning classes became a routine.

Time didn’t pass too long before they began having lunch, study sessions, and even weekends together. Since Owen wasn’t from Los Angeles, Michelle would show him all her favorite spots. She once took him on a tour of celebrity houses, and they took a picture of themselves in Tina Turner’s driveway—a photograph still in her possession.

Owen proposed to Michelle on graduation day. The ring wasn’t the most glamorous, but Michelle didn’t care about that. She was just glad that he _finally_ asked her. They didn’t have much at the time. Owen recently started an entry-level position while Michelle worked as a receptionist, both working to pay for their apartment and other expenses. They were young and in love, and that’s all that mattered.

The date was set, the wedding party was selected, and Michelle found the perfect wedding dress—a dress she never got to wear.

Two weeks before the scheduled date, Michelle got the call that Owen was in a car accident. Someone ran a red light and hit him. He took his last breath before the ambulance could reach the hospital.

Since that day, Michelle became more focused on her career as a publicist. Of course, she had her flings every now and again, but no matter how many men wined and dined her, she could never love any of them the way she loved Owen.

“Michelle?” Martin’s voice brought her out of her memories of the past.

She hadn’t realized she was crying until Martin turned her to face him and wiped her tears with his thumbs. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead, and she snaked her arms around his neck, burying her face in his bare chest while his arms encircle her.

Michelle wasn’t sure what made Martin different from her other flings, but something about him intrigued her. He was funny, easy to talk to, and the fact that his accent made her knees turn to jelly when he whispers in her ear was a bonus. Along with that,  Martin was sweet, charming, and attentive. The small moments between them were amazing, such as when he would lay his head in her lap while she combed her perfectly manicured nails through his graying locks. Or those mornings when they would in bed together, and Michelle would rest her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. A few times she found that the rhythm of his heart matched hers.

Telling Martin about Owen wasn’t easy—especially because she doesn’t like talking about him—but Martin listened, held her, and wiped her tears as she cried.

“I know I can never replace him,” he said and lifted her chin so she could look at him, “and I surely would never try.”

She nodded as another tear flowed down her cheek, which Martin removed by kissing it.

He continued to hold her while a few minutes of silence passed before Michelle broke it, but her words came out so softly that Martin didn’t catch them at first.

“What was that?”

“I’ll go to London,” she repeated while locking eyes with him. “That’s if you still want me-”

Before she could finish, Martin cupped her curvaceous buttocks with both hands and lifted her. She gasped at the motion and instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Martin!”

He smiled adorably before kissing her lips while his arms held her close.

Michelle returned the kiss with passion and intensity, her tongue fighting his for dominance.

They were able to maintain the kiss as Martin carried her over to the couch and set her on her back. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her fingers found themselves amongst his grey-and-silver locks again.

He pulled away and looked into her eyes, blue eyes boring into dark brown ones. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that.”

Instead of responding verbally, she pulled him into another deep and passion-filled kiss.

This began a new adventure for Martin and Michelle.


End file.
